


Not Quite Full Circle

by CatHeights



Category: Oz (1997)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-29
Updated: 2007-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:59:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatHeights/pseuds/CatHeights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say you can't choose your family. The story is set post-season 6 and was written for the Oz Magi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Full Circle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marylex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marylex/gifts).



  
"Home sweet home. Never thought I'd miss this fucking place, but it's a shit load better than that overcrowded stench hole they've had us locked in."

Toby nods, his gaze distant as he clenches the pillow and sheets in his arms.

"Yo, Beecher, you in there?"

He jumps and turns to see that Ryan is looking at him oddly and pointing toward the top bunk. "You okay with me taking this one?"

"Sure, whatever."

Ryan puts his stuff down. "Cool. You know I don't think they're going to take the pillow and sheets away from you. I'm pretty sure it's safe to put it down."

For some reason, whatever Ryan's saying doesn't make sense. The words fade into a hum that calls Toby to leave the pod. He balances the load in his arm and opens the door.

_Toby._

Keller's calling him, and he still doesn't know how not to listen. He stares at the floor seeing Keller's body crumpled there, neck at an angle, and then he gazes above and sees himself screaming, face twisting in horrified agony. It's funny, in the weeks since they evacuated Oz, he hasn't really thought about Chris's death. Well, that's not true. He's thought about it in a distracted, academic way, but he hasn't really felt it.

He's been too busy to feel anything. While Keller's death had eventually been ruled a suicide — the truth shall set you free, or at least keep you off death row — staying alive in a new over-crowded prison had proved quite the challenge. At least he'd had Ryan in his unit, watching his back.

Now though he's back and all he can see is Keller's sightless eyes. It's like Oz is once again reaching inside to devour his soul.

A warm hand squeezes his shoulder, and Ryan's voice is in his ear, sounding surprisingly gentle. "Beecher, come on. Set up your bunk. These fucks are starting to stare."

He lets Ryan guide him back inside and dumps the pillow and sheets on the bottom bunk. "Home sweet home," he says and snorts. Somehow it must amuse God to have all paths lead back to Oz.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

_"I love you. That's all that matters, you and I."_

_He kisses Chris, falling into the seduction that's the greatest addiction of his life. When he breaks the kiss and opens his eyes, all around him are the dead — all the young men Chris killed, Shemin and Browne, Andy Schillinger, Metzger, Kathy Rockwell. And, oh god, there's his father, an ice pick sticking out of him._

_"It doesn't matter," Chris says. "Only we matter."_

_"Let me go," Toby says. "It matters. Oh God."_

_"No, I can't let you go. Don't you understand? I love you Toby."_

_"I know, I know. I love you too, but you have to let me go."_

_"I can't."_

_Chris's grip hurts; he can't breathe.  
_  
"Beecher!"

Ryan's voice breaks the dream, and Beecher realizes he's in his bunk, damp with sweat, and breathing hard.

"You okay?" Ryan sounds concerned.

"I'm fine."

In the silence that follows, Toby's sure the sound of his pounding heart is going to drive him mad. Relief floods him when Ryan starts talking, partially drowning out the sound.

"You hear about Miller?"

"No." The name briefly calls to mind a thin, arrogant addict with a buzz cut. He thinks that's the guy Ryan means.

"Well he tried to take out Santos."

That name draws a blank, which is vaguely disturbing. He should know these men Ryan's mentioning. Not being aware of everyone in Em City is dangerous and stupid. How oblivious has he been lately?

Ryan laughs, which draws a startled smile out of Toby. It's a good sound.

"He dropped the shank on his own fucking foot. It actually severed a toe."

Toby snorts. "What did Santos do?"

"He laughed. Everyone laughed. Stupid punk must have a death wish because he tried to shank Santos with everyone around. He ain't gonna last long."

"No, probably not."

Ryan launches into another story, and Toby closes his eyes, relaxed for the moment. He falls asleep to the sound of Ryan's voice.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's inevitable that his family will eventually stop contacting him on a regular basis. And really can he blame them? Visiting Oz has always made his mother nervous, and after Angus getting stabbed and his father killed, it doesn't surprise him that his mother can't bring herself to visit this hellhole. He's obviously not the son she would have chosen to have. Still the occasional letter would be nice. He guesses while you can't choose your family, you can choose to forget them.

Day by day it must get easier to ignore his existence. Yes, he can't blame his family, but still it hurts, a constant cold ache, like icicles slicing his insides every time he breathes.

Toby can't help comparing his situation to Ryan's. While the family life he'd long ago taken for granted has shattered, and the pieces like sand continue to slip from his grasp, Ryan has somehow managed to find a family dynamic that works within the confines of Oz.

Not that the dynamic is a simple one. Ryan may have forgiven his father, but that doesn't mean Seamus O'Reily isn't still a bastard, even when he means well. He tests Ryan's temper on a weekly basis, but Ryan at least has the calming influence of his mother. Toby's glad Suzanne is a constant presence in Ryan's life.

He wonders how Ryan would have handled Cyril's death without her. It wouldn't have been pretty. He knows Ryan still misses his brother. A few weeks ago, Toby had woke to hear him whispering, "Happy Birthday, little brother." He'd kept silent, pretending to be asleep and letting Ryan grieve in peace.

Ryan also has the pain of Gloria's absence to deal with. During the evacuation, she'd been laid off. Talk is someone noticed a certain conflict of interest. At first Gloria visited Ryan regularly, but as time went on, the outside world reclaimed her. Toby knows Ryan hopes she'll get her job back and return, but it's a dimming hope.

Still so far, Ryan manages to remain centered, holding onto the shred of normalcy he has with his mother and father. Toby hopes whatever Irish magic Ryan is working holds. Something good should last in Oz.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Time's relentless, brutally cutting off what you don't want to end and dragging out those things which you don't think you can bear another day. Toby is time's bitch, drifting in the routine of living.

His nightmares continue. He wakes every night, heart pounding, and every night, Ryan tells outrageous tales until Toby's breathing returns to normal, and he falls asleep. The sound of Ryan's voice, soothing in the darkness, is the only comfort to his days.

Sister Pete says he's depressed. No shit. He knows if she could get the cost approved, she would have medicated him, instead, she has him walking McManus's fucking maze every day. It's supposed to be calming and allow his mind time to work things out. Today, like every day, he works his way through the maze, only to find his mind blank at the end. Obviously the only answer is emptiness. He's been down that path before.

Hours later, after lockdown, he's leaning into the door, gazing out at empty space when Ryan's voice startles him.

"You give up talking for lent or something?"

Toby turns around, frown on his face, forehead scrunched.

Ryan grins at him. "Even when you were batshit crazy you talked more."

He opens his mouth to tell Ryan he's full of shit, he talks all the time, but the words don't come as he realizes Ryan's right. He doesn't talk much anymore. Guilt eats at Toby as he thinks on how often he's been comforted by listening to Ryan talk, and yet he's forced the other man to pretty much maintain a monologue, broken only occasionally by Toby's brief answers to questions.

Christ, he's a selfish bastard. Night in and night out, Ryan's been faced with his constant silence. It's a wonder Ryan isn't ready to bash his head into something. Toby takes a deep breath. Ryan deserves an explanation for his silence, except Toby doesn't know what that explanation is. It's just too much effort these days to talk. "I'm sorry," he says, and God, does that sound inadequate.

Ryan comes over, squeezes his shoulder and gives him a light, friendly shove. "Hey, I was just saying. Relax, save your penance for Mukada. Come on let's kill some time playing cards." Ryan pulls out a deck and sits down on Toby's bunk.

As they play a hand of poker, Toby racks his brain for conversation topics. It's awkward at first, because really why would Ryan give a shit about things like Toby's lame childhood family vacations. Except, he seems interested, and as Toby continues to talk, he finds it easier. He remembers how conversation helps pass the time, helps make him feel connected.

"Fuck," Ryan says after losing a hand. He tosses his cards down in disgust, but then he grins at Toby. "That's okay, in the long run, Lady Luck will favor me."

"Whatever helps you deal with losing, O'Reily." Toby grins back. He notices Ryan seems more relaxed, as if some sort of tension has been lifted from his shoulders. He makes the startled realization that Ryan's been worried about him.

The time flies as they continue to play and talk, and he's surprised when lights out is called. As he watches Ryan get ready for bed, something eases slightly inside his chest, as if someone just applied a salve to a painful wound, providing a momentary lessening of pain.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Toby hums as he stacks copy paper, positive today's going to be a good one. How could it not be when he's finally going to get to see his kids? He'd received a letter from his mother last week saying she was going to bring Holly and Harry by for his birthday.

"Happy Birthday to me," Toby sings and then laughs.

Hours pass, but no one comes. He pesters hack after hack about whether he has any visitors. Until finally visiting hours are over, and the last bit of hope dies out. Perhaps he shouldn't have tempted fate by being happy. The universe enjoys his misery.

As they're heading toward their pod for evening count, Toby says to Ryan, "I hope nothing's happened."

"I'm sure they're fine. Probably car trouble or something."

Count's over and the door locks for the night. He sees McManus coming toward the pod, and his stomach twists. McManus only brings bad news. Ryan squeezes his shoulder and then steps away to lean against the back wall.

The door opens and McManus enters. Toby feels like he's going to puke.

"Beecher, I just wanted to let you know your Mother left a message for you. Holly caught a cold, and she decided it was best not to bring the kids by. She said to tell you she's sorry, and uh," McManus pauses, looking uncomfortable. "She said to wish you a happy birthday."

"Thanks." He doesn't want the pity he sees in McManus's face. He just wants him gone.

McManus takes the hint, and without another word leaves.

Toby lies down on his bunk and closes his eyes. Ryan's smart enough to let him be. There are some things words can't ease. Eventually he falls asleep, leaving him at the mercy of his brain. The dream is simple but devastating.

_Holly and Harry are talking and laughing. Toby smiles and walks forward to hug them, but they back away, fear on their faces._

_Holly shoves Harry behind her. "Who are you?" She demands. "Go away and leave us alone. We don't talk to strangers."_

_Toby swallows. "Honey, I'm not a stranger. Don't you recognize me?"_

_Holly doesn't answer. Instead, she grabs her brother's hand and runs._

_"Holly! It's me, your father."_

"Beecher."

He can't answer Ryan because he can't breathe, and that's not a bad thing, because this hurts too much to want to survive. He hears the sound of Ryan jumping down, and then he's sitting on the edge of the bunk.

"Beecher. Are you okay?"

A sob escapes his lips, and he stuffs his fist into his mouth to stop anymore from getting out. He doesn't want to fall apart in front of Ryan.

But Ryan's on the bunk now, pulling Toby toward him. "Hey, hey," he says in that soft tone he used to use with Cyril.

Toby lets his head fall to Ryan's shoulder. The arm around his back feels so good, as does the warmth of Ryan's body. For a while being held is enough to shut off his mind.

Eventually his relentless brain kicks back into gear, and with a sigh, he lifts his head, but he doesn't move away. "Thanks."

"No problem. You know I've got your back." Ryan squeezes his hand.

The simple truth of that statement hits Toby hard. Week after week, month after month, Ryan has watched out for him. He realizes Ryan has been doggedly trying to draw him into that circle of normalcy he's created for himself, and he's been too buried in his own misery to notice. He squeezes Ryan's hand, holding on tightly.

He'd told Chris that every life is precious, even the lives of those in Oz, and he believes that's true, which means his life is precious as well. In Oz, it's easy to forget to value your own life. Sometimes you need a little help remembering.

"You got my back too. Right?" Ryan says softly.

"You know I do." Toby's voice sounds choked. He hopes Ryan hears the sincerity in his answer, because he knows without Ryan, he wouldn't have survived being back in Oz.

"Good."

As they sit there, shoulder to shoulder, Toby thinks on how they've come full circle, back to beginning — well, not quite. He smirks looking down at his hand which is still held tightly. Perhaps not even close to the beginning.

Ryan nudges him to lie down, which he does, his back pressing against Ryan's chest. He knows his connection to the outside world is going to continue to grow to a distant hum, but perhaps he and Ryan can manage to navigate life in Oz together, for as long as he has to and for as long as Oz will let them.


End file.
